


Fortunes and Belonging

by flightinflame



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Erik Lehnsherr Loves Charles Xavier, Growing Old Together, M/M, Old Married Couple, Protective Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: They always knew they'd end up together, and now they are, side by side. Erik realises his friend's predictions were right all along.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57
Collections: Secret Mutant Exchange 2019





	Fortunes and Belonging

**Author's Note:**

  * For [g33kyclassic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/g33kyclassic/gifts).



Several lifetimes ago, Erik had known a girl whose aunt told fortunes, who would look at a stranger's palm and tell them their life story.

He remembered sitting with her, laughing as she tried to copy her aunt, turning his hand palm up and running her fingers over the lines there, telling him he'd have a long life, and be in love, and have a family. She'd told him that when he found the love of his life, he would love her very very much, more than he could understand, and Erik had believed her, because she was his friend, and they were having fun, sharing a bar of chocolate that his papa had brought back from work.

And then the war had come, and there was no more time for reading palms or eating chocolate - he hadn't eaten it since - and he'd put aside his daydreams that you could tell stories from examining someone's hand. He doubted she'd lived to adulthood. The future wasn't predictable, aside from the knowledge that humans would always find ways of hurting people, taking advantage of the weakest whenever they could. 

At least, for a long time, that was what he had believed. 

And then he met Charles, and things started to change. Not everything. People were still monstrous, as often as they could be. But he and Charles could work together, build something stronger. And then as life went on, they found themselves separated, shaped by history that was out of control.

Only that girl had been right - he did love Charles very much, and he found his way back to him, again and again until eventually their orbits collided and they settled over a familiar game of chess, in the shadow of the Eiffel tower. Now, looking at his husband's hands, he could see the story of their lives together, reflected in old scars and wrinkles, the tan line where his watch rested, the presence of his metal ring. He lifted Charles's hand by embedding his ability into the silver, guiding it to his mouth and pressing a kiss there, looking up towards his husband's eyes.

Charles smiled at him fondly, the creases around his eyes deepening as he looked at him.   
"You're a romantic, really, aren't you?" His husband teased.

"Of course not," Erik murmured, reaching out to lace his fingers with Charles's own. "I've always been the practical one, you're the romantic."

His husband laughed, and leaned up to kiss him.  
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Erik." 

There was a time when even jokes like that might have made them argue. But over time they had mellowed, found their shared ground, realised that what held them together was far more important than what forced them apart. 

He leaned in, and kissed Charles again, stopping him from continuing the discussion.

 _You do realise this doesn't shut me up very effectively, don't you?_ Charles asked, and Erik could feel the affection there, the teasing. 

"I was told I was destined to find someone...a long time ago. I always thought...well, I thought she was wrong. Misguided. That she didn't know the person I was, or the person I would like... that I wouldn't..." He sighed, drumming his fingers on the metal of their chessboard, then looking across at Charles, then down at their joined hands. "We've argued about the destiny of our kind, for so long... and not the destiny of ourselves. The fact that I was always... I was always meant to find you. You were always... you are always mine." He reached out, placing his arm against Charles's, where they both wore metal bracelets. The metals flowed between the two pieces, rearranging themselves, altering the decoration, before they moved apart once more. It just felt right, knowing what they shared.

Charles looked up at him fondly, reaching up to stroke one greying strand of hair back from Erik's forehead.  
"Such a romantic. And it’s your move, stop stalling."

***

Charles had never expected to find himself back at the school he loved, with his husband beside him. Erik's presence wasn't permanent, not now - he'd spend some time at the school, but then he'd disappear off to Genosha and his life there. Charles learned to live with the absences, even when they hurt, because he knew Erik would return to him, that Erik would always return, always want him, always care. And he felt the same.

No matter what paths their lives took, it always came back to this, to being together, side by side, ready to face whatever the world wanted to throw at them. There had been times, before this, when Charles had feared he'd never see Erik again. But now here they were, side by side, exactly where they belonged.

He leaned in, to kiss Erik, and then yawned.

"It's time to sleep..." He muttered, and Erik nodded. It was easy to forget, at points, that throughout much of the world Erik was still regarded as little more than a criminal. When to Charles he had always been so much more than that. When Erik was in America, he lived at the school, and was carefully hidden away when inspectors came around, and the other teachers were happy to turn a blind eye given the success Erik had had with some of the more difficult children. 

Charles was full of pride for that. The way his husband would crouch down beside a new child at the school, despite his age and the aches and pains the movement must have caused. The way that Erik would reach out, and smile at the child, and ask them to show him their gift.

Erik never flinched away, or acted as though he was repulsed, or said that a gift was insignificant. The children were here because they needed somewhere they would be safe, to grow and to heal, and Erik threw himself into their care utterly.

There had been a time when Charles had doubted Erik's belief in mutant supremacy, in rights for their kind. It had felt as though he was merely using it as an excuse to get whatever he wanted, to try and rid the world of humans after the harm that he had suffered.

But things were different now. Erik would spend time with the children, spending days sometimes coaxing a smile from them, or making them laugh. He would care, about each and every student - and they missed him when he was away, with a sadness that almost matched Charles's own. The sheer joy at his husband's return spread through the students, and Charles knew that this school was where Erik belonged - not just the school of course, he had his own country to care for. But by splitting his time and staying in the shadows, he was able to help their kind, and change the views of the world towards mutants, even while hated himself.

Erik floated his wheelchair towards their bedroom, sparing Charles's aching shoulders, and went to get washed. Charles followed him, the two of them moving around each other with practiced ease, Erik pausing occassionally to steal kisses from him. When both of them were ready, Erik went and laid down in bed, and Charles climbed in after him, pulling his body close. Erik arranged the blankets over the two of them, one arm landing possessively across Charles's chest.

Charles smiled at him fondly, pressing a kiss into his husband's grey hair, running a hand across his back as he pulled him close.  
"You're going bald you know. One day, you're going to look just like me."

Erik snorted, and cuddled closer.  
"We're seeing your sister tomorrow. Don't let hear you say that, or she'll start doing impressions again, I really don't need to see what I would like without hair."

"Neither of us needed to see that." Charles agreed, yawning and settling against him. He remembered the times they'd shared a bed - the first rushed fumbles as they had scoured the country for their kind, followed by slower moments shared in Charles's childhood home. Cuba, and ten years of solitude, until they had found their way back, and found they fitted together as well as they ever had. Differently, of course, from when Charles could walk - and differently again now that age had changed them, reshaped them and educated them. But they still belonged, in each other's arms, and in each other's hearts.

Charles yawned, closing his eyes, and allowing his mind to burrow deeply into Erik's own, a comfort and reassurance. He could remember times when Erik had forbidden him this, and he had never pushed it, but to slide now into his husband's thoughts, to tangle together their dreams and know that they were safe - it was like coming home. No, it was coming home. 

Erik had always been home, would always be home. They hadn't realised that at first, but they knew it now, and he was grateful for that. He drifted off to share another night of dreams with his beloved, side by side, as they would always be.


End file.
